


Everlasting

by forgottenjeevas



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood and Gore, Fighting, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, M/M, Mostly blood, Slave Fenris, mature - Freeform, shit is real, why am i like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgottenjeevas/pseuds/forgottenjeevas
Summary: Leto won the tournament and saved his mother and sister, and now he's bound to Danarius, and there's no telling what will happen next.Dorian Pavus occasionally meets with Danarius, one of the several who are interested in lyrium and its abilities. But that's just on the outside. He is actually trying to distract Danarius to allow his poor slave to escape and gain freedom. He's heard from sources outside Tevinter how dangerous it can be, and he doesn't want it to get that far.-------------------------------------------"Come now, my pet. I have big plans for you."Leto doesn't make eye contact, preparing himself for whatever might come.





	1. Trapped

Leto closed his eyes, saving this moment in his mind. After the tournament was finished, whether he died or not, things would be different than they had been his whole life. It didn't matter what happened to him anymore, not after this, as long as his mother and Varania were spared. As long as they didn't have to live fighting for their lives, on the run until eventually they were killed. He took in how the air smelled, the cool breeze that tousled his hair just that little bit, relaxing him like it always did. The way the grass and rocks felt as he ran his hands over them. It made him feel big, like he had a place in this world somehow. 

The man approached him, and he stood slowly, nervous. The time had come. Now was his chance to prove his worth. Now was the time to show everyone that he was willing to save his family, even if it meant he suffered. He glanced at the man, only a little taller than him, and nodded. 

It was a huge arena, and Leto almost stopped walking when he saw that almost every seat was taken. Everyone wanted to see this fight, everyone was waiting for the blood and death that came with it. And if the man hadn't been behind him, he would have been tempted to back out. Instead he kept walking, tuning out the cheers and boos of the audience, focusing on the task at hand. There was multiple events that he had to complete, and he couldn't fail any of them. Nothing else mattered except winning, staying alive. And he had no clue who or what he would be fighting, so that only added to the nerves. 

The noise stopped immediately as a bearded man, clearly the Danarius he'd been told about, raised his hand. Everything went silent, waiting in anticipation. Danarius let his arm fall back to his side, and addressed the crowd. "It's time to see the contestants' strength. Our first contestant is Leto." 

Leto listened as the rules were listed, but he already knew all of them by heart. What he didn't know, however, was that after he beat the rest of the stages, the last two contestants standing had to fight each other. To the death. Leto took several breaths, the sun beating down on him, nerves making him tremble slightly. It was far too late to run out, let alone make it out alive if he tried to run. That Danarius was said to be one of the most powerful magisters in Tevinter, and turning your back on him was suicide. With that, the talking was over, and the first fight was going to start.

It began almost immediately, the groaning of a heavy door opening behind him, and Leto snapped his head in the direction in surprise. They sure loved their surprises, magisters... Leto reached behind him, arms sore from his secret training prior, and pulled his greatsword out of the sheath and correcting his stance as quickly as he could. The door stopped creaking, and several seconds passed before anything happened. Leto stood there in anticipation, when something slammed into him from behind. His face hit the ground, and Leto groaned from the pain. The creature jumped over him, landing and turning to face him with a snarl. 

A great bear, if he had to put a name to it. Never had he seen one, but he'd been warned he might have to fight one. With help, it took a lot, but by himself, it would be extremely difficult. Why was this the first task? It could only get harder as he went, but he hated bears. Just because of they are vicious, and they hurt a lot more than swords. The creature's claws caught his stomach before he had time to move, and Leto gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you live." 

He swung his greatsword as hard as he could, slicing into and through the great bears neck. It paused, raising onto its back legs and falling down on Leto with a thud. If he couldn't get out from underneath it, he was dead. At this rate, he was as good as dead anyways. Unless... Leto held his sword in his hands, his left hand holding the blade and pushing it upwards. He bit his lip, the blade slicing into his hand as much as it was to the bear's stomach. The bear moved, but Leto grabbed it's back leg and held on, getting dragged for a few feet until he thought of a plan. He had to gain the advantage... somehow. 

Leto moved into action when the great bear stopped moving, stabbing his greatsword into the ground and lifting himself up. The crowd cheered, and he took a breath. Damn, this was going to be a long day if it kept up like this. The great bear started to turn, and Leto took the only chance he was going to get. The elf lunged at the creature, both feet off the ground, and he hoped he hadn't just done himself in. 

Leto's hands caught thick grey skin, gripping it tightly as he pulled himself onto the great bear. The creature definitely didn't like that, and lifted onto its hind legs again, causing Leto to wrap his arms around its neck, the greatsword dangling almost uselessly from his right hand. It came down quickly, and Leto gripped tighter, using a lot of strength to stay on top of it. An idea came to mind, but it was crazy, never going to work with the bear thrashing around like it was. The crowd was becoming louder, and Leto decided to go for it. It was the only idea he had, and he had no intentions of dying. Not today, not to a damn great bear. 

The blade pressing into his palm and fingers again, Leto knew he shouldn't, not this early. The pain went deeper, sharper than last time, and it stung. The blood was trailing off the tips of his fingers, and some off of his wrist. The bear was moving, running in circles and twisting. But not once did Leto loosen his grip, even when the blood made his hands slippery on the sword. 

He pulled the weapon towards him, feeling the warmth of the creature's blood join his, and he was almost sick. He didn't like this feeling, having to kill to survive. But it had to be done, so he forced himself to keep going. The elf pulled harder, the creature letting out a cry. It had to know by now it was dying, and Leto closed his eyes in sympathy. Why had he done this? To save his family? This had better be worth it... 

Great bears don't go down easy, especially when a blade is slicing through it's throat. Leto tried to go faster, but with the great bear moving more frantically now, no doubt desperate to survive, it proved to be difficult. The sun was shining bright, but the ground was covered with so much blood, ruining the day. Leto had thought he was prepared for this, but this wasn't what he had imagined. Not even close. 

Out of strength at last, the creature sank to the ground, making Leto fall off to the side. It wasn't dead yet, but it would be soon... Leto pulled the sword out from under it's neck, breathing heavily, knowing what had to be done. He felt bad, hearing the bear's whining, but he could do something about it. 

With only one second thought, Leto stood beside the bear's back, bringing his sword up like he'd seen others do, and brought it through the creature's heart. The whining stopped, and Leto held his breath as the crowd erupted into cheers and screams of excitement. He would never understand how they found entertainment in this. 

He glanced up at Danarius, standing in front of his chair. He seemed pleased, amused even. With a simple gesture, he sent two men to lead him to the healer for his wounds. Leto was grateful, the cuts on his hands and stomach stinging. He left the arena and was taken to a new area as Danarius's voice was heard. 

"Now for the next contestant!"


	2. Lost Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto wins the tournament, and gets more than what he bargained for.

Leto listened to the crowd cheering, all for him, and he braced himself for the final move of the fight. Dragons, demons, a very difficult pride demon, all on his own. He didn't expect to get this far, let alone be seconds away from winning, but now that he was here, he knew he couldn't back out. It was seconds away from his family being saved, and seconds away from his life changing forever. His heart was beating faster than it had the past five stages, and he'd lost a lot of blood, but still he fought on, knowing it would be over very soon. It turns out he had to fight one of his friends from childhood, and he almost threw the match, but then he remembered his family.

 

His sister Varania, his mother, safe out of slavery, away from here. That was what was best for them, and he would give them that, no matter what it took. It was strange what he could accomplish when he had something to fight for, but he'd never had a reason to fight until now. Never had any former training, never thought about fighting. But now everything changed. As he brought his greatsword around quickly, from behind him to connecting with flesh in front of him, he shouted as the young boy's blade caught his own flesh, and both of them fell backwards. Leto's vision swirled, and he let his head fall back weakly on the dirt and rocks. His old friend lay still feet away from him, but that wasn't what Leto cared about, although he cared. He hated having to kill for himself, but he knew the boy wanted to die anyway. The boy's words echoed in his mind for a split second, and Leto let himself be tugged to his feet, announced to the entire arena that he was the victor. He'd won.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Leto was late for his nightly meeting, again. He'd been running, so focused on getting there as fast as possible, but when he got close enough, there was a young boy standing beside the door. He was looking down, but Leto lowered his head respectfully, recognizing this boy as the son of a powerful magister by the name of Pavus. The boy lifted his head, smiling for a second before frowning. "You're late again, Leto. You need to start being on time, or you'll get whipped." Dorian Pavus had taken the blame for Leto several times in the past few months, made excuses for his tardiness, and overall tried to help his life be better, though sometimes it didn't work out. 

 

Leto didn't lift his head, staring intently at the ground in case anyone was watching. They had this unspoken connection, that Dorian would look out for Leto, and Leto wasn't expected to return the favor, especially since it would get him in trouble, which was the last thing both of them wanted. "Yes, sir." Dorian didn't like being called 'sir', but it was considered respectful, since Dorian wasn't his master. 

 

Dorian sighed quietly, knowing what Leto was going through. His life was hard, but he was trying to get through it. "Listen, Leto... I have a plan to help you, but it will take a long time."

 

Leto held his breath, lifting his head to look into Dorian's eyes, hopeful. Dorian took the hint and continued, smiling. "When I'm old enough, I'm going to buy you. Then you won't have to worry about people treating you badly."

 

Leto's smile grew, the information sinking in, and Dorian laughed quietly. This could be the only way out, for Leto to have a happy life. And Dorian would make it happen, no matter what. 

 

The months passed slowly, and Leto grew tired, exhausted from working all day, never able to get a break. Dorian noticed, but his father grew more strict on the rules, since he was getting older, and that left no chance to check on the boy. A year passed, and Dorian finally had a chance to sneak out in the middle of the night, hoping Leto would be there. 

 

Leto was there by their normal tree, pacing, trying his best to be quiet, though his sobs gave him away. Dorian put his hands on Leto's shoulders, making him stiffen, then relax when he realized who it was. He told Dorian everything that had been happening, how his mother was getting sick, and his sister was having trouble doing her duties, and how he had been taking the blame for her for months. The young elf poured his heart out to the young mage, and Dorian held Leto close, letting him cry into his shoulder, body shaking even when he had run out of tears. Leto couldn't go on like this. Dorian knew he wouldn't last long, not if he kept it up, and hated the situation. They had planned for Dorian to get old enough, but that was at least three years away. Leto told himself he could make it, but Dorian could see past the lies and the mask. Dorian ripped a long piece of fabric from his cloak, not caring about how much it cost, and wrapped it around Leto's arm a few times, his healing magic having stopped the blood but he could tell it was still sore from the punishment. He hugged the poor boy, pressing their foreheads together. 

 

"I promise you, Leto... I will get you out of this. Just stay strong, and meet me here at the end of every week. If you sneak out any more than that, they'll notice, and we will lose our only chance. Understand?"

 

Leto nodded, face stiff from tears, but he wasn't crying anymore. "What's that for?"

 

Dorian smiled happily, proud of himself for thinking about it as quick as he did. "It's my cloak, well, a piece of it anyway. I want you to have it. Keep it safe, and look at it whenever you need motivation." The two stayed in each other's arms for a while, until Dorian came to his senses and realized how dangerous this was, to be out in the open, just waiting to be caught. "You need to go. I'll see you next week, Leto."

 

Leto made his way to his feet, and  turned back to Dorian with a slight smile. "I'll see you next week, sir." 

 

Dorian smiled back, and corrected him. "Dorian. You can call me Dorian. It just sounds better."

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

Leto clutched the red fabric to his chest, taking several deep breaths before tying it to the branch of the tree, the exact spot where he'd seen Dorian just a few days ago. It didn't matter what Dorian did now, he'd made his decision. The tournament for the magisters was in a few days, and it was the only option. He'd told Dorian he could make it, but he knew better. He was a liar, getting punished for saving his sister from the beatings. He hated himself for it, but he knew it was the right thing to do, no matter how painful. With one final silent prayer, Leto turned and raced for his tent, hoping that Dorian would get his message in time, so he could somehow help him in his desperate hour. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dorian sat beside his father, watching and listening to all of the other magisters, trying to make his father proud, but he was bored. None of this mattered to him, so he didn't understand why he had to sit through hours of these secret meetings. He could be speaking to Leto right now, not listening to the endless chatter of these old men who only wanted to use magic for the power. They didn't care about it's good qualities, they only wanted to be the most powerful, to take over and rule, to turn the world into chaos. Dorian hated these magisters, and he hated that his father led them in these talks. 

 

He bounced his knees, fidgeted with his fingers, stared at the ground, but just couldn't stay focused. He hadn't been able to see Leto this last week like he'd planned, and he wanted to know what was going on, how he could help. All he could do, however, was sit, stay quiet, and listen. So listen was what he tried to do, difficult as it proved to be. He perked up in the middle of a conversation, trying not to speak out. This tournament they were talking about, the contestants, nothing out of the ordinary, until his heart skipped a beat. Leto. They said Leto.

 

Eager to listen now, Dorian waited for them to say something useful. What was happening to him? Why were they talking about him? Was he fighting in the tournament? But all the magisters wanted to know now is what would happen to the winner of the tournament. 

 

"He'll have to be strong, that's for sure."

 

"Or she. There's one girl who's fighting."

 

"I doubt she'll win. The boys are stronger, no question."

 

"But will your plan work? That's a lot of lyrium to put into someone. It's never been done before, Danarius."

 

Dorian preoccupied himself with tapping his feet on the marble floor, trying to not scuff it too much. Lyrium. He'd heard rumours of it being dangerous, but he'd never heard of it being put inside someone...

 

"It will work. The ritual will be done in sections, and he must be conscious, otherwise it will be more difficult when he wakes up." 

 

Various nods of agreement, and Dorian furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. They were planning to put lyrium in a person, and he had to be awake while they did it? That would be worse pain than he'd ever experienced, and he didn't want anyone to go through that. But what did Leto have to do with it? 

 

"You should be expecting a lot from that one boy. The one I've whipped, on more than one occasion, I might add." Everyone seemed to agree on that, and even Dorian's father Halward Pavus spoke in favor of the plan. 

 

"Yes, that Leto boy. He's got a habit of getting caught trying to read, and even when whipped, he still tries. He's got determination, I'll give him that. If he wins, I think he's strong enough."

 

Dorian was allowed to go to bed that night, but his mind was racing. His heart beating, he suddenly knew something bad would happen. It didn't matter what he did now, Leto was in danger. Without making sure his father was asleep, he snuck out of his room, out the window, and raced towards their special tree. 

 

Dorian's heart skipped a beat or two, his mind trying hard to process this. The fabric he'd torn from his cloak to wrap Leto's arm with was tied to the branch, and Dorian knew it was too late. Leto had heard about the tournament, and nothing could be done to help him now. But still, he had to try. He would save Leto from Danarius, no matter the cost. They were not going to put lyrium into him, and make him suffer more than he already had. Not when Dorian was still breathing. 

 

"Leto, just stay strong. I will help you, just stay strong." His whispered breath was carried by the wind, and he hoped that Leto wouldn't do anything else crazy. Dorian couldn't stand to let him die, not when he was his only friend...


	3. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, but have some LetoxDorian feels because I'm evil XD  
> Leto decides to fight, after talking with Dorian.

Dorian felt it as if it were real, Leto curled up in his lap underneath their special tree, covered in a blanket of bright stars that almost hurt to look at. The elven boy relaxed at Dorian's touch, and it made him happy to see Leto like that. He had seen how bad a slave's life could be in Tevinter, and he knew that it wasn't the best thing that could happen to a person. Some days it could be the worst thing, depending on the guards' moods. After climbing through his bedroom window, not bothering to take his time and not fall and injure himself, Dorian curled up on the stone floor that he'd taken for granted his whole life. And though his father frowned upon it, he cried, feeling utterly helpless as his only friend was preparing for the deadly tournament of champions. The past twelve years had been good, but now there was no telling what would happen in a few hours. With a small sob, Dorian held the fabric of his cloak, clutching it to his chest as he stared at the ceiling. What had his father said once when he was mad? Fasta vass? It didn't matter what it meant, because in that moment, Dorian considered it acceptable to say- though he would try to ask his father the meaning later, just to be sure. 

 

_Fasta vass_. Dorian muttered, then once more as he made a tight fist around the fraying fabric. _Fasta vass_. He stood, staring out the window as his black hair curled slightly from the movement. The stars were almost as bright as that night under the tree, and he didn't want to remember it. Then it came to him, a fragment of a story that his father had told him years ago in a history lesson. 

 

_See the stars tonight, Dorian? The fade is more active when the stars are bright._

The younger Dorian smiled eagerly, imagining what it would be like to use the Fade to help with his magic.  _Teach me!_

Halward had shook his head, sighing softly as he saw his son so eager to learn such dangerous magic.  _Maybe another time, my son. You're too young._

But Dorian had been eager, and gone behind his father's back to learn more about the Fade. It was told to be an amazing place, most mages able to go there in dreams, so why was he too young? 

 

He hadn't understood all those years ago, and he still didn't, staring at the stars. The few that knew Dorian could tell he was about to do something he shouldn't, the way he set his jaw in defiance, his eyes locked on the target, determined. And that's how it normally went. If he wanted to do something, really wanted it, he wouldn't stop until he achieved that goal. He took out a heavy weighing book from under his bed, eyes scanning the faded cloth and leather cover. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this was his only chance to help Leto. If he remembered right, Leto could go into the fade too, since he was an elf. So there was a chance that he would be there, as long as he was asleep. Given the time and task that was going to happen first thing in the morning, Leto would be awake. But he had to try, otherwise what kind of friend was he? 

 

Dorian sat cross legged on his bed, pushing away the thought that Leto didn't have an actual bed to sleep in, and sat the book in front of him. He opened it carefully, leaning lower and struggling to see with only the moonlight to read by.  _The Fade is..._ was all he could read before leaning over to his right, twirling his hand only slightly and lighting the candle that was almost ready to be replaced. He would have to read fast, making sure to read all the rules correctly to be sure he knew what to do. 

 

_The Fade is dangerous, a place for mages to travel to in dreams, though some higher powered magisters find it easy to do while conscious. Demons and spirits lurk everywhere, eager to tempt those who visit and possess them._

 

Dorian skipped to a handwritten entry, the ink mostly readable but a few places were smudged.  _The Fade is beautiful, and not dangerous if one knows what they're doing. With my travels, I have seen many interesting things, and have not once been possessed. Those who fear the Fade have reason, certainly, but if they keep their wits about them, safety is guaranteed._

 

With a nod, Dorian closed the book, now moving with an urgency as he tried to take as little time as he could. The book slid under his bed, he now rested his head on the pillows, trying to clear his head and focus on the Fade. He had to find Leto, save him while he still could, and get him somewhere safe where he wouldn't be hunted. Thinking about it now made him unsure how much of this plan was achievable, because he hadn't thought about any place to put Leto until that moment. But it was too late. He could talk to his history teacher, since he seemed to hate the slavery issue almost as much as he did. Anything he did now would be pure improvisation, and he had no idea what would happen. The only thing he hoped for was that nothing would go wrong. 

 

Focusing his mind on the Fade proved difficult, since it looked different for everyone, and it took almost an hour to feel his body getting heavier, drifting into the darkness. 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Leto almost cried in relief when he felt his body sinking to sleep. Maker, he was happy for that. Ever since he'd gotten back from leaving Dorian's cloak fabric tied to the tree branch, his brain had been going faster than his body. His mind was in a billion different places at once, and he tried to calm his nerves that were increasing rapidly. What was he thinking, signing up for that tournament? He could get killed, and he'd be the reason why, because he didn't think. One of these days he would die from his heart, his emotions controlling most of his brash decisions, and he would deserve it. 

 

As soon as he realized that he was dreaming, he saw everything with a sharper focus, almost like the world was dull all the time, and this was how it was supposed to be. Surrounding him were grassy areas filled with several types of flowers he'd seen in the distance while he was working in the fields. They all looked different close up, some orange, some yellow, and some pinkish white flowers sticking out of the small pond to his left. To his right was a tree he'd grown fond of, but only because it meant safety. It meant that Dorian would be there to help him and hold him in his lap, and for that brief moment, everything would be okay. Leto smiled slightly, enjoying for once that he was able to explore the Fade that he’d heard about from the other elven slaves. He had tried before, but with how restless he was all the time, it had only happened a few times when he was younger, and that was before he knew how cruel the world was to people like him. That was when he was naive, when the guards were somewhat nicer to him and actually spoke to him without yelling. Why did growing up have to happen like that?

 

In a way, he was still naive, hoping that Dorian would help him with the tournament. But this close to sunrise, the thought was absurd. He found himself laying down in the grass, pleasantly surprised by the lack of dirt and rocks that was actually there in the physical world, and stared at the stars. He never really thought about why this was the place that he saw, and didn’t know that Dorian was watching him from the other side of the tree. 

 

Dorian stood there in shock, but also relief, because he found Leto. Somehow he was asleep, and that was the best thing that could have happened. But he hesitated, seeing how obviously happy Leto was as he laid in the grass, the flowers contrasting his black hair and dark skin. He knew he had to help Leto, so he sat down beside him, smiling slightly. This would hopefully go well. 

 

“Dorian?” Leto shot up, instantly wary as he watched the newcomer, never blinking once as he scooted backwards ever so slowly. 

 

Dorian hesitated, frowning at Leto. What had gotten into him? Though he probably heard about the demons in the Fade… “It’s me, Leto.” He tried to reassure his only friend, but that only made him more cautious. 

 

Leto was now on his feet, assuming a fighting stance, and Dorian hated seeing Leto like this. “You cannot tempt me, demon.” Leto snarled, eyes narrowing.

 

Dorian knew he had to prove his identity somehow, but that was difficult in the place where anything is possible if you think about it. He slowly held his hands out, palms up like he’d seen Leto do so many times. He even lowered his gaze to the ground, trying to make his hands stop trembling. Hopefully he understood. 

 

Leto watched the boy closely, not liking how he wasn’t speaking. Demons didn’t have to speak to possess someone, at least that’s what the stories say. But why would a demon lower itself like this boy was? Almost… scared. Then it hit him. He’d told Dorian about it, the move that sometimes worked to get him out of trouble. And the way his hands were shaking, it was a convincing performance. He wanted to believe it was Dorian, he needed to see his friend one last time before the tournament. What if Dorian had gotten his message, and he was really here? Slowly, Leto knelt down, afraid of keeping eye contact but he held it even so, and put a hand on the mage’s shoulder gently. 

 

That was all it took. Leto and Dorian met each other’s eyes, and Leto knew. Only one person he’d met had that brown of eyes, and only Dorian was capable of having that small spark. Leto dropped to his knees faster than he intended, wrapping his arms around Dorian and sobbing. Dorian held him, rubbing his back reassuringly, and Leto hated his decision. What if he never saw him again? What if he died in the tournament tomorrow? “I’m sorry, Dorian…” Leto’s voice was muffled by Dorian’s cloak like always, his fingers fidgeting with the familiar fabric he thought he’d never feel again. Almost velvety, but still smooth like silk. 

 

Dorian was close to tears, though he tried to hide it. He ran his hand through Leto’s messy dirty hair, and the other wrapped around his back as a security measure. He had to protect his friend, try to change his mind before it was too late. “Shhh…” Dorian’s voice cracked at the end, and Leto noticed, pulling back at watching the boy’s face. 

 

“Dorian?” Leto was happy that Dorian was here, but he was crying too… Was that why he was here? To convince him to go on the run for the rest of his life? To end up getting his family killed for dropping out of the tournament? There was no guarantee that’s what would happen, but with him being a slave, it was possible…

 

“I… You have to drop out, Leto.” Dorian took the elf’s hand in his, and rubbed his thumb over it to try to ease both his nerves and Leto’s. “You can’t fight tomorrow.”

 

Leto should have known that’s why Dorian showed up in the first place. Part of him knew that Dorian was only looking out for him, but the other part screamed in anger and betrayal. Leto had told Dorian how bad of a place his mother and sister were in, so why would he try to tell him not to help them? “You know I can’t.” Was his quiet response. He watched the ground instead of Dorian, telling him without actually speaking that he had made up his mind. “I won’t do that to them. They deserve a good life, not this.”

 

Dorian bit his lip, considering his words. “I want to help you…”

 

Leto stood quickly, wiping his face with his hand, and Dorian knew he was crying again. “They are more important. I am nothing…”

 

What happened next was drawn out, and almost didn’t happen at all. But Dorian couldn’t stand Leto leaving like this, and it never having happened. He got to his feet and stood, the same height as Leto, although he had more muscle. “You… Leto, you are not nothing.” He hesitated, holding the younger boy’s shoulders. “You’re my friend, and you mean everything to me… I want to protect you…”

 

Without fully understanding what Dorian’s words meant, he felt what he was trying to say. What he’d been thinking was just friendship… It was more than that. “Dorian, I…”

 

With a small breath, the mage boy leaned closer to Leto, and to his surprise Leto did the same, trying to mirror him because he’d never been told how this worked. It didn’t matter that they were both boys, it was obvious that they both cared for each other, and that was what mattered. Their lips met slowly, Leto hesitating when they brushed together, and when Dorian pulled back smiling, Leto wasn’t.

 

“Dorian…” He whispered, green eyes full of sadness and pain. “I can’t leave them like this. I have to fight tomorrow… I’m sorry…”


	4. End of the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leto has never felt anything like this, and only now does he long for death. Any escape for the pain.

Led away from the chaos and screaming of the entertained crowd, Leto followed the healer, and found himself in a room filled with obviously high powering magisters. In the middle of all of them stood Danarius, staring at Leto, and Leto lowered his gaze respectfully. Whatever happened next, it would be worth it, because his family would be saved. Varania would be okay, and his mother wouldn't have to worry so much. That was all that mattered. He would still be a slave, but Danarius didn't seem to be that bad. And it was better to have a defined master instead of just serving the magisters in general. This way, everything would be better for his family. That was the most important thing, and it gave him the determination to keep going. 

 

Everyone went silent as he entered the room, and there was a quiet murmur of approval when he lowered his head. Danarius was the first one to speak, obviously the leader of this meeting, assuming this was his house. "Quite a show you put on. I'm impressed." The way he watched Leto should have set off several alarms, but Leto was too distracted. He had won the tournament. He didn't die like he thought he would. He had won, and now his sister and mother would be safe. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. 

 

Danarius approached Leto, gesturing vaguely with his hand for the healer to leave, and examined the elf closely. He must have liked what he saw, slowly circling Leto like his prey, and smirking. Leto could only stare at the ground, more comfortable that way, hoping those eyes would look elsewhere for a little bit. But he let out a startled gasp when Danarius' hand forced his chin up, and his cold gaze locked onto Leto's eyes. Only then did he think of Dorian, and how he was uncomfortable with the way that Danarius looked at him. He wanted Dorian there instead... 

 

But Dorian wasn't there. That thought hurt Leto more than anything else. Dorian wasn't there, and he couldn't help him now. He had brought this on himself, and only now was he starting to believe that he made the wrong choice. He could have left well enough alone, but then again he couldn't have. The only reason he had competed in the first place was to save his family, and now he had. But now with his family safe, he had no idea what would come next. With a small flinch, he stared into Danarius' eyes until he was released, the hand moving away too slowly for his liking. 

 

"Come now, my pet. I have plans for you." 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Dorian woke up in a panic, heart racing, tears old and new trailing off his cheeks and soaking the sheets that protected his bed. His first thought was betrayal, but that quickly turned to fear. He had so many questions, but there was no time. With a glance through his window, the sun would begin to rise soon, and that meant he was out of time. Leto would fight in the tournament of champions, and there was nothing else he could do to stop it. Unless there was a way to stop time, or reverse time... But even if there was, he had been told it was impossible, and dangerous to meddle with time itself. What could happen and what would happen, those were two similar things with the same outcome. In the worst scenario, Leto would never be truly free, forced to live his life with the cruel Danarius. But what if it wasn't that bad for him? If he had a better life than what he had now... That was all he wanted, for his family to be safe, wasn't it? 

 

If Leto wanted his family safe, Dorian could do that. If Leto accepted this fate for himself, Dorian would learn to be happy for him. But listening to the magister speak about the lyrium rituals with the other magisters... It was not going to turn out well. They had said he was strong, and Leto was strong, however putting lyrium into a person's skin? That was the horror stories they told the children at night to make them afraid. And truthfully, it was working. Dorian was afraid, for himself and for Leto. If Leto had lyrium inside him, that would make him dangerous, and that couldn't make him happy. 

 

That settled it. Leto wouldn't be happy if he knew what was going to happen to him. Dorian scolded himself for not thinking to mention it to Leto when he found him in the Fade. Why hadn't he said something? Maybe that would have changed his mind? Why had he been so selfish and stupid? He knew what he had to do, but it wouldn't be easy. There was no way to interfere with Leto's plans now, not with the tournament beginning in less than an hour. The only thing he could do now was wait for the tournament to be over, and wait to hear the news from his father. He was only twelve, and that was no time to be put in this kind of position. He had to save his friend, but there was no possible way to do that. He was on his own now, and Dorian hated that he couldn't be there for his only friend in his hour of need. 

 

The hours passed slowly, rather than quickly like Dorian wanted them to, and he paced his bedroom. His mind wasn't the best thing to listen to, nor was his heart. So he tried to shut everything out, trying not to think of Leto or his fate. What if he died? What if he competed only to fail? What if he won? How could Dorian help after he won? Could he help at all anymore? Questions he had no answers to, and they never got any quieter, no matter how much he cried and paced. He just wanted to know something. Anything would be better than not knowing. The anxiousness was back after a few minutes of silence, and Dorian hated how helpless he felt. Just once, he wanted to have a normal life, not having to wait and see if his friend was alive or not by the end of the day. 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Time passed in blanks of memory. Feet, ankles. What was happening? Blank. Feet aching and sore, but now upper legs. Cries, whispering, chains unbreaking. 

 

Clothes were long forgotten, but they couldn't protect like they needed to in these moments. Cold clinging, burning wherever the metal touched. Heat made sweat, dripping down. Blank. 

 

Awaking after the precious blanks was torture, the pain hurting that much more, skin aching. Not muscles, but skin. The metal on hands, each scrape earning a whimper. Blanks didn't offer comfort anymore, the darkness so far away as time passed. Metal on skin, cold of _something_ making its way deeper, wounds never healing before they were opened again. 

 

Eyes staring, connecting and evil, then memories. They took some of the pain, but they each brought their own pain with them. A small boy with dark hair, warm and comforting. Arms around, the only safety. What was his name.... His name was _right there_ , but... 

 

I cried out, the name ringing like a dozen bells in my mind, and I captured the name eagerly. _Dorian_... Dorian would come. Dorian would save me... He had to. The metal was tracing my neck, and I longed for death.

 

For the first time, I didn't have the strength to fight. As it became clear Dorian wouldn't save me, I couldn't lift my head as my stomach was forever scarred. I watched it happen, the man's hands careful, though he didn't seem to care how much pain his work caused. 

 

I focused on the boy, dreaming I was in another place, that I was happy and with the boy... His name was slipping, my mind further than I could reach, slowly fading. The pain was terrible. Words couldn't describe it. My mind was almost gone, but I held the boy with me, all hope eventually diminishing as my neck and chin were damaged. 

 

_Dorian...._ He wasn't coming...

 

_I am alone..._. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sounds, clinking of chains, and smell of blood. I opened my eyes just barely, slowly coming to, and felt my chest rise and fall. The rhythm was slow, soreness spreading through my entire body. _What happened....?_   I attempted to raise my head, failing, and groaned. The sound echoed in the empty room, stone walls surrounding me like a cage. Someone must have heard my distress, and I was examined by two men with different expressions. One looked startled, the other seeming pleased. What was going on? Where was I? 

 

"Can you hear me?" The younger man was speaking, words familiar but not connecting in my memory. I knew the language, but that didn't matter. I wanted answers. "Do you know where you are?" 

 

I was quiet, thinking what the best way to get the answers I needed was. I didn't know these people, I didn't know where I was, and I really wanted to know who they thought I was. I didn't even know that much. 

 

"Hurts...." I mumbled, my throat obviously hadn't been used for a while. A flask was on my lips, the metal cold and surprising, and I brought my fingers gently to my face. It hurt, but there was no obvious wound. I took hesitant sips of the water in the flask, the man clearly a healer who was supposed to make sure I was healthy.  

 

"There will be pain, I can't help you with that." The man looked down at my hand, and for the first time I got a good look at it. That... wasn't normal, was it? His hands didn't have white lines like mine did. Was that why I hurt so much? I watched the other man watch me closely, and wanted to ask him, since he seemed to be in charge. He met my eyes, and I looked at the stone floor, afraid. Then his words caught my attention, and I tilted my head to look at him again. 

 

"You've been through a great deal, Fenris. But I will make you feel better." The older man had this tone to his voice that I couldn't stand to hear. It was wrong. Something was really wrong here, and I had to find out what. He had called me Fenris? That didn't sound familiar at all... But if that was my name, it was a start to my questions. 

 

My eyes traveled over his robes, fancy and expensive by the look of them, and watched him as closely as he watched me. It was a staredown, our eyes locked for eternity as we connected. Through that single moment that stretched on, I knew what he wanted. I understood what I was, and I knew my place. I broke the connection, feeling guilty, and whimpered as he lowered himself to kneel by my side. The man was above me, and I knew that was how it was supposed to be. This was my place in the world, and I had to serve him and do whatever he wished. The feeling of guilt faded, replaced with longing. He watched me like he cared for me, and that felt good that I was appreciated... When he trailed his fingers gently over my arm, I couldn't help but let out a breath of relief, but there was a lot of pain where he touched, where the white lines designed my skin. 

 

"Fenris. You are beautiful. A masterpiece. A miracle." The man complimented me, and I enjoyed every second of it. He did care about me, and that was good. Now all I had to do was make him happy. That was my purpose in life, and so that's what I would do. His touch was amazing, and somehow it took some of the pain away. Was he healing me? No. I wasn't wrong for having these markings. I was a masterpiece, and I was supposed to be this way. "I didn't think you were going to make it, my pet. You are so strong."

 

I took comfort in the fact that I lived, though I didn't know why I almost died. Maybe I was ill? These markings might have made me ill, and that could be the reason for my miracle of life. Whatever the reason, I was happy to be alive, and to serve my master. "Thank you..." I stayed quiet, this moment a turning point in my life, and I felt its importance as the seconds passed. 

 

"Does this hurt when I touch you?" My master's voice was gently, caring, and I closed my eyes, memorizing it. He had saved me from death, and he cared about me. 

 

"No..." 

 

A hum of appreciation, then he removed his hands from my arm. I opened my eyes, watching him stand and whisper something to the healer man. _Why was he leaving?_ He was going to make the pain come back, and then I would hurt again. He must have sensed my confusion, and looked at me for a moment before leaving the room. The healer man left a small tray of food and the flask of water on the floor, then he followed my master's lead and locked the door behind him. 

 

As I stared at the food, my stomach clenched in hunger and pain, and I knew I had to eat. Even if I only ate a little, I had to make my master proud. That was all that mattered. My master deserved to be happy, and I would try my best to do that. His praise meant more to me than it should have, but I was grateful for my life. Sleep came for me, and I embraced it to escape the gnawing pain in my heart. 


	5. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris learns a little more about what happened to him, but he knows he's being lied to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know where I want this story to go, so bare with me :) If you have any suggestions, let me know!

The light was dim, a small flicker of a candle to the left, almost gone. The wind was cold, seeping through the walls, my skin now having bumps. I tried to curl up into a ball, escape the chilled air, the stone surrounding me, but it was no use. The more I thought about it, the more cold I seemed to get. How long had it been since that man had left? Wouldn't he be back soon, with food and a blanket? He had seemed to care about me, so why had he left me alone like this? 

 

I took the silence and solitude to think, though it wasn't the best use of my time. What did I know, and how did I get here? That was the main questions I wanted answered, but I couldn't remember. Waking up was the last memory I had, but before then... Blanks. Like a giant wall, strong and solid. No cracks for memories to slip through, no way of figuring it out. But it didn't make sense. Had my memories been taken away for a reason? On purpose? It was possible, but that raised the question of why? Why did they take my memory? Why was I here? Why did I have these lines all over me? Why was I so _different_? I wanted to know, but more than that, I wanted to understand. Right now, I knew my name, and that the man was in charge of me, but that was it. Nothing else connected, nothing else made any sense at all. All I wanted was to curl up in the man's lap, and let him touch my face with his hands like he had earlier today? Two days ago? It was getting hard to keep track of time. 

 

But something about the man made me feel scared. Like he wasn't supposed to be in charge of me, or something went wrong... Just everything about him made me afraid of him, yet so safe at the same time. When we had first made eye contact, I could feel the waves of safety, comfort, and security wash over me. Did he do that, or was it me? Did he have some way of making me feel like that, or was he trying to control me into thinking that way? I didn't know, and I knew that it would be better if I knew. But with no one to talk to, no one for the past day or two? I had no way of knowing. 

 

Throat sore and dry, skin feeling like it would never be warm again, and a mind filled with emptiness. That was my first day, my birth, I guess, since I couldn't remember anything else. Everything felt foreign and wrong, no matter what it was. The language was wrong, the voices, the memories, the name... Wrong. All of it, so utterly wrong that I didn't think I could take it anymore. When the man finally came into the stone room and helped me to my feet, I felt better, but not whole. I asked questions, though he didn't answer me right away. That look in his eyes made me want to cower, back down, but I wanted answers, so I kept asking. When it was dinnertime on my first day, the man sat me down next to him at the small end of a huge table. Others were there, too, filling the other chairs, so that all but two were taken. I wondered to myself where the other two people were, and if they would be there soon. But those chairs never were claimed, sitting empty like my mind until it drove me crazy. 

 

The man watched me all night, never taking his eyes off of me, feeding me, but never once speaking directly to me. It wasn't normal for people to do that, was it? I just knew that something was wrong, and I wasn't sure if I did anything to cause it. What happened to the man that cared about me, said I was a miracle? I had to know, and out of nowhere after the guests had left the table, I took the chance. 

 

"What did I do?" 

 

The man shot me a look, then paused, as if not knowing how to answer. He grabbed my arm, dragging me into a huge room away from the main hall. He didn't seem to notice that it hurt to touch me, and I didn't want to tell him. 

 

"Don't ask questions, Fenris. You should know better." 

 

I frowned, looking down at the ground. Was I supposed to know these things already? If that was the case, why didn't I know these things? Did he know that my memory was gone? 

 

"I don't."

 

The man watched me, then put his hand to my forehead. I closed my eyes, feeling that warmth and safety, and he made a noise of confusion before withdrawing his hand. 

 

"I see. Fine, follow me and I will tell you what you need to do. Just make sure to listen and do as I say, understand?"

 

I nodded silently, eager and curious. This was it, I would finally get some kind of answers. That was all I wanted. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

"Dorian, you need to eat." 

 

Dorian Pavus sat in his seat, watching his plate full of untouched food with disinterest. This had been happening for three days, ever since the Tournament. Ever since Leto had made his choice, and he hadn't been able to talk to him. The worst thing was not knowing. He'd asked his father, but he refused to tell him anything. 'You're too young to understand, Dorian.' was the only response he got. Did Leto win, or did he fail? He wanted to know! Dorian just wanted to know, and maybe if he knew, he heart would rest easier. If Leto was alive, Dorian would feel better. If he was dead... Dorian didn't want to think about it. He had hope for his friend, and he knew that he was strong. 

 

He had no idea what the Tournament had involved, but with all the cheering and screaming that followed the event, the crowd had been entertained. It was disgusting, even to a child that was only twelve years old. If a child knew better, why couldn't an adult see? Entertainment shouldn't be achieved by fighting and violence. The world had enough of that already. If people wanted to have fun and see a show, they could go to the theatre or something, though Dorian wasn't actually sure if people did that anymore. He remember his father telling him stories about it when he was younger, but not in several years. 

 

"Dorian." 

 

His father was speaking, but Dorian didn't have the energy to listen. He hadn't eaten much in three days, hadn't slept at all, and it was taking a toll on the boy. Halward Pavus had no idea why his son wasn't acting normal, but he was concerned for him. 

 

"Why are you not eating? Are you mad at me?"

 

Dorian shook his head slowly, acknowledging his father but not speaking. It was all he could do to keep his head from connecting with the table, his hand holding his head up as he fought sleep. 

 

"Dorian. What's wrong? This isn't good for you to not eat. Are you ill?" 

 

Dorian closed his eyes, trying to imagine what being sick would feel like on top of the heartache. Were they two different things? Where was the line drawn? The headache would still be there, as would the soreness of his entire body, along with the lack of energy. Distant memories from years ago floated through his mind, wrapped in a blanket and listening to his father read him stories by the fire. Those days were long gone, and Dorian knew he couldn't get them back. 

 

"I want to know who won the Tournament." 

 

Halward sighed, watching his son closely. 

 

"Does it matter that much to you?"

 

Dorian nodded, eyes still closed. He was close to fainting from exhaustion, and his father could tell. 

 

"Sleep first. Then I will tell you."

 

"Promise?" 

 

His voice was tired, quiet and hopeful. 

 

His father gave a small smile, picking Dorian up gently from the table, cradling him in his arms like any loving father would. 

 

"Promise." 

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

I made a mental list of rules to remember, and I couldn't make any mistakes. 

 

First rule. Don't speak unless someone speaks to you. It was confusing, but I didn't want to make anyone mad at me, so I stayed silent. 

 

Second rule. Do as you're told, and don't ask questions. Easy enough. Just make sure to not hesitate, and everything will be easy. 

 

Third rule. When speaking to anyone, address them as Master or Mistress, and don't make eye contact. They like to think they are better than the lower people, slaves, like me. This rule made me angry, because I thought that everyone was supposed to be treated equally. Either way, my opinion didn't matter, and wasn't asked for, so I had no choice but to listen. 

 

Rule four. I was going to be trained as Master's bodyguard, and learn to control my powers. I had no idea that I had powers in the first place, but if that was what Master wanted me to do, I would do it. 

 

Everything else I had to learn as the days went by, and I did make mistakes a lot. The first week with Master was scary, and I didn't know how to do anything. I wasn't going to start training until I regained my strength, so I had to do chores with the other slaves. They didn't look at me, but the way they stayed as far away from me as they could, it let me know that they feared me. I didn't know why, and I couldn't ask without getting in trouble. I didn't think that I should be feared. I was just a normal person trying to survive and serve Master, just like them. But they told me with their actions that I was different, and I hated it. I wanted to be normal, not feared, not afraid. Was that too much to ask? If a person wanted to be normal, could that happen? Was it possible to be normal, even for a person, a slave, like me? I liked to hope so. 

 

The first week went by slowly, and I learned more and more every day, watching the others to make sure I didn't mess up, and I finally understood how they worked. Their movements were small, quick, and careful. Their arms only stretched as far as they had to, and they all curled up into balls to take up as little space as they could when Master came to check on us. I followed suit, keeping my eyes low to the ground, focusing on catching a small bug that had somehow gotten into the kitchen. My eyes followed the bug, and I attempted to catch it with my hand, getting used to the strangeness of the situation. My hand was right over the bug when I felt a hand on my arm, lifting me to my feet. I gasped in surprise, then remembered my silent rule. I kept my eyes on the ground, but those boots were familiar. 

 

Master. 

 

"Come with me, Fenris. It's time for your training." 

 

I nodded without a word, letting my arm drop silently to my side as Master released it. The boots turned, and I let my legs move in the same motions, right leg, left, right, right, left. I stopped after a few minutes, nearly running into Master's back because of how quickly he stopped. He turned to face me, and I took a small step back. It was beginning to get miserable, how much I wanted him to touch me, praise me like he had a week ago. But he didn't. Instead, he grabbed a sword from a table full of blades, and held it out for me to take. 

 

I blinked several times, the absurdity of the situation hitting me full force. Why was I training to be Master's bodyguard? Was he in danger? Why did it have to be me? But I couldn't ask questions, so I took the blade carefully with one hand. For being a small sword, it weighed more than I had thought it would, and the point hit the ground as soon as Master let go of it. I quickly tried to fix my mistake, panicking, and held it a few inches off the ground with both hands, although it was still heavy. 

 

"How does that feel?" 

 

The question was strange, and I wasn't sure how to answer at first. Then I felt a surge of power, and saw Master waving his hand over the sword. The magic pulled at me, no, it pulled at something _inside_ of me... and I felt it. The power that Master had told me about, but never really explained. I did have some kind of power, and I glanced at my hands with a frown, seeing the white lines... glowing...

 

"Feel it, and control it. Use that power, and hit me." 

 

What? I couldn't hit Master! That was crazy! What was he saying, that he wanted me to hit him? Was this a test? It didn't make sense! But he watched me with this look on his face that I knew he actually wanted me to... So I tried. 

 

The power inside me helped me lift the sword higher, using strength I didn't know I had before. I took a breath, probably two, and steadied myself, lowering the sword to my left side, and going with what my heart told me to do. Instincts and fear drove me forward, the only reasons that I didn't say no. I grunted with the unfamiliar weight of the sword, bringing it up in a diagonal to do as Master wished. 

 

But he stopped it midswing, and I was frozen in shock. I couldn't move the sword, and my entire body was no longer under my control. Master had one hand held out, the other holding a small dagger. The magic he was using pulled at my power, and I couldn't fight it. It was a test, and I failed. 

 

"Fight it, Fenris. Show me how strong you really are." 

 

His words didn't make sense, lost somewhere between the air and my ears. I was too busy panicking, trying to fight the powerful magic, and getting overwhelmed when I couldn't. My mind rebelled, something inside me screaming to _move_. But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't win against Master. He had asked me to do something so simple, and I couldn't. I just... couldn't. 

 

"Giving up so easily? I didn't know you were that weak." 

 

Master's words made it that much more difficult not to break down in tears. He may have said 'weak', but my mind went a different path, telling me how stupid I was. I was so stupid, I couldn't pass the first test! Stupid, stupid, stupid... 

 

The word played on repeat, Master's voice echoing in my head, until it consumed me. That's all I was. I was stupid, worthless, and I didn't deserve to be Master's bodyguard. I didn't deserve it. I was so stupid, so weak...

 

Pain exploded in my chest, and I heard Master yelling at me, inches away from my face. The words didn't make sense, but his tight grip on my arms was enough to open my eyes. I stared at him, only now aware that I was crying. He watched me, displeased, angry even, and threw me backwards onto the floor. 

 

I cried out as my back hit the stone, and heard only the sound of my heart beating, the pain worse than the thoughts in my mind. 

 

If this is my life... When would it end?

 

Could I ever be free? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For one person I know reads this, yes I made that reference XD   
> It's a reference from Benny's monologue from the play Freak by Angela Hill, which is a fantastic play by the way.   
> So yeah, let me know if anyone has any suggestions, because I have no idea how to continue this from here. 
> 
> Until next time,   
> Weylin :)


End file.
